


Top Off

by thesinfulship



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesinfulship/pseuds/thesinfulship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barbara finds herself questioning much of her life and choices. Uncharacteristically, she also finds herself looking for the answers at the bottom of a bottle, and it's up to Jason to take care of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Top Off

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sort of a sequel to Lucky Seven. You don't necessarily have to read that to make sense of this one, but it will likely have much more impact if you do since you'll have a better idea of where Jason is coming from.

Jason had taken more and more to just drinking at home lately. His “work hours” weren’t the most regular, and he was usually heading out long before and trekking home long after most bars were open. That night, however, he had just said “screw it” and headed to the nearest bar for a few pints. It was the sort of place that was dark enough and loud enough that he could just sit and get lost in his thoughts and his beer without feeling obligated to participate in any barstool banter. At least, that had been the plan, until he saw none other than Barbara Gordon nursing a huge glass of wine at the end of the bar. The bottle sat nearby, and it looked as though she had been going pretty hard long before just ordering the whole shebang.

Well. It wasn’t the strangest thing he had ever seen in that bar, but it was certainly high on the list. 

He sidled up to the bar and slipped onto the stool next to her. She lifted her head from where her chin rested on her hand, looked at him, and turned away. 

“Barb, what’s going on?” Jason asked, quickly signaling to the bartender to bring him a shot and a beer. “Never thought I’d walk in on you slumped over the bar. Though I guess you’re keeping it classy with the wine.”

“What d’you want, Jason?” Barbara grumbled, not looking at him. 

“Well, I figured I’d make sure you weren’t punishing your liver too hard. You kinda need it. Can’t live without it. Hence the name.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I know.” Jason downed his shot and chased it with a sip of beer. “So?”

“So what?”

“So what’s got you being all poetic and drowning your sorrows in...what is this...some $5 bottle of merlot they’re charging you $20 for?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you look fine.”

“Shut up.”

The way she said that struck Jason. She didn’t snap it, didn’t even move when she said it. She was just quiet, softly asking him to shut up because she clearly couldn’t bear to be told what she already knew. Jason took a breath and another sip of his beer. 

“Okay. So you don’t want to talk about it. You don’t have to. I’m not your damn therapist anyway, so no loss on my end.”

“There’s just nothing to talk about. That’s all.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“Just...go away.”

“Nah, see, I can’t do that, because you’re a pretty girl who’s drunk, alone, and in a seedy bar. I know you can handle yourself when you’re sober, but I’m not comfortable leaving you to your own devices tonight. So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Jason, please.”

“We don’t have to talk. You don’t even have to look at me. You just go to town on that crappy wine until you’re finished and then I’ll walk you home, okay? Let me just do that.”

Barbara sat quietly for a moment, then, in a defeated sort of way, drained her glass of wine and picked up the bottle, then poured some into Jason’s empty shot glass like an offering. He laughed a little at it and drank it down, then shuddered. 

“Shit tastes like cough syrup,” he said through a cough. 

“You can drink rotgut whiskey without flinching but you can’t handle this?” Barbara asked, pouring a little more for him and refilling her own glass.

“Call it a personal preference.”

“Wuss.”

Jason laughed again and sipped more slowly this time. They sat in silence for a while, until Barbara was almost finished with the bottle of wine. By then, she was leaning heavily against the bar, looking even more morose. Jason scooted her glass away. 

“You done?” he asked quietly.

“Mm-mm,” Barbara said, shaking her head and pulling the glass back. It was a little unnerving to see her be clumsy. “Might as well finish it off.”

“You’ve had a lot.”

“That’s the idea. You pour it.”

Jason sighed and emptied the rest of the wine into the glass, which Barbara was holding steady. She drained it quickly, chugging it like a frat boy, and she gagged a little on the last sip. Jason ordered water from the bartender and patted Barbara on the back. 

“Okay. You’ve proven yourself. You can truly drink enough wine to keep up with the best of the soccer moms. Now can we head out?”

As though she hadn’t heard a word he said, Barbara turned and looked at him, blinking as though he were blurry - which, after what she had consumed, he probably was. She stared at him for a long moment, then took a deep breath. 

“Am I a bad person?” she asked, her voice very quiet.

Jason stared at her as though she had suddenly sprouted horns. “Are you what?”

“A bad person.”

“Uh, no. I’m a bad person. You’re, like, a fucking angel by comparison. Where’s that coming from?”

“I dunno,” she mumbled. “I want some more wine.”

“Drink your water.”

“I want _wine_.”

“Drink the water and take it up with Jesus if you have a problem with it. He might be able to do something about it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know. Which brings me back to my point. You asked if you’re a bad person...takes one to know one. You’re not. And I thought you knew you aren’t. So...what’s got you wondering?”

“Went too far.”

“Night job getting a little rough?” he asked, careful to keep his tone casual. 

“Mmhmm.”

Jason tossed some cash onto the bar by way of settling their bills, then grabbed Barbara’s jacket from the back of her chair and started to help her put it on.

“Let’s take a walk and you can tell me all about it,” he said, draping an arm around her as they walked out. 

She leaned on him and stayed quiet until they were a couple blocks away. The night was chilly, so Jason held onto her. She wasn’t dressed warmly enough. She really did look like a mess, like maybe she had spent the day crying, and given how drunk she was, it was likely she hadn’t eaten a thing all day. This was going to be a rough night and an even rougher morning for her. Just as Jason was about to suggest they stop at the corner store to make sure she was stocked up on aspirin, Barbara stopped walking. 

“You okay? Gonna puke?” Jason asked, looking closely at her.

“I almost killed someone,” Barbara blurted out. 

Jason blinked. “You...okay, what?”

“This guy...bad guy...I didn’t have to do all that. It was too much. And I couldn’t stop. Maybe I wouldn’t have, but I did because the girl I was trying to help started screaming because she wanted me to stop and just get her home. She just wanted to go home, she didn’t want to see someone get beaten to death, even after what he tried to do to her, but I was...I would have…”

She was babbling, getting more drunkenly distressed by the word, so Jason put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed to stop her.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. You didn’t,” he said, his voice low and firm.

“I wanted to, I think,” she said, and she sounded so, so small. “I don’t know who...I don’t know what I am.”

“You’re Barbara Gordon. Certified badass. Okay?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s keep walking. Almost home,” Jason said, urging her on. “Couple more blocks, then we’ll get you home and we can talk more about it.”

Barbara leaned against him as they walked. “I don’t want to end up like you.”

It wasn’t as though she and pretty much everyone else hadn’t said that about a million times before, in some form or another, but something about _in vino veritas_ made it a surprisingly painful knife right in the gut for Jason. He just gripped her a little tighter and nodded. 

“Yeah. I know. I don’t want you to, either. Come on, keep going.”

“I’m supposed to _help_ people. Hurting happens, but I’m not supposed to _want_ to,” she kept lamenting, even as Jason shushed her. There was no one around, not at this time of night, but still, for God’s sake, she needed to stop talking until they were behind closed doors. “I want to be a good person, you know? I want to be...I don’t know. I want to be good. That’s all. But maybe I’m not anymore. Maybe I’m not even _me_ anymore. I don’t know.”

“Stop. Count to fifty. No talking until you hit fifty, got it?” Jason ordered, knowing that would at least buy him enough semi-quiet to get them into her building. 

Barbara started muttering the numbers under her breath, and damn it all, when Jason glanced at her, he saw tears falling down her face. The poor girl was having a drunken meltdown, which was the worst kind to have, and it was probably only going to get worse before it got better. Jason was exactly the wrong person to have on hand when gentle sympathy and understanding was needed. Tough love? Sure - if “love” were more like “sarcasm doled out in a semi-caring manner, but with a really assholish tone throughout”. This kind of situation was not his forte. Not that he was incapable of being nice, he wasn’t a complete monster, but he just wasn’t sure he was equipped for this. 

But what choice did he have? 

Barbara had fallen quiet somewhere in the mid-thirties with a little groan and slumped against the wall as she tried to dig her keys out of her purse. When she had no success after a moment, she started digging in her pockets, spilling the contents of her purse in the process. 

“I got it,” Jason said, quickly scooping everything up and locating her keys. “You’re going to sit on your couch and drink a glass of water, okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Sit. Stay.”

“I’m not a cocker spaniel,” Barbara grumbled as she flopped onto her sofa. 

“True. You’re more like an Irish setter,” said Jason, pouring water from the tap and bringing it over.

Barbara chugged half the glass in one go and kicked off her shoes. Jason hovered around the coffee table, not sitting in case she needed anything else. 

“So, Barb...got that superhero identity crisis thing going on, huh?” he asked once she seemed capable of talking. “Look...everyone goes through it. Pick a Robin, they’ll tell you. It’s just part of it, you know? Probably some deep psychological explanation to do with having dual identities and how we compartmentalize and some shit like that, I don’t know. My explanation is just ‘we deal with hard shit all the time and it screws with our brains’. What you do...well, what you don’t do...that requires restraint. I know you don’t approve of my methods. I don’t really approve of yours, but...but I know how hard it is to hold back sometimes. This little breakdown of yours is probably long overdue, so just...have it. Get it out of your system. And then get back to work.”

Barbara stared at him for a moment, then patted the couch next to her. Jason moved to sit next to her, still keeping a close eye on her face. Even drunk, she was hard to read when she wanted to be. 

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” she said quietly, simply. 

“I told you. You’re Barbara Gordon, and you’re great. You’re _good_. Okay? This is just...temporary shit. Promise.”

“What if it’s not?”

“Hey. Look at me. I know you’re probably seeing three of me right now, but pick one to focus on. It’s temporary. You’re gonna be just fine. You’ll work this out. You always do. You’re you.”

Barbara looked at him again, and before he could ask what was on her mind, she had leaned in and started kissing him. Jason was too surprised to do anything about it, because hadn’t they mutually called quits on all this months ago, wasn’t this not supposed to be a thing anymore, hadn’t he told her clearly he couldn’t keep on with that friends with benefits arrangement they’d had for a while...he had, he knew this, and he knew kissing her back was wrong on about seventeen different levels, but his body responded before his brain could catch up. It wasn’t until she had pressed up against him a little too hard, the wine robbing her of her usual grace, that he pulled back. 

“Shit - Barbara, stop,” he said, placing a careful hand on her shoulder and pushing her back a bit. “Hey. Stop. That’s not what you want to be doing right now, okay?”

“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “Like we used to.”

“That was different. And we said no more of it anyway.”

“I want to.”

“You’re drunk. It’s not happening,” he said firmly. “I cross a lot of lines, but that’s not one of them, okay? Get what I’m saying?”

Barbara suddenly looked very embarrassed and pulled back, her face crumbling a little. She curled up on the corner of the couch, looking like she might start crying again, which was exactly the last thing either of them needed. Jason stood and got right to pulling her up.

“Come on. Bed. That’s what you need. Just sleep it off, okay? You’ll probably have a hangover in the morning, but it won’t be much worse than anything you deal with after patrol.”

He managed to steer her into her room and got her into bed, tucking her in and rubbing her back a little. She sniffled a few times, but she started to relax soon. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled after a while. 

Jason shook his head. “Just get some rest, Barb. You’ll be okay.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I...yeah. Sure.” He made sure not to promise to stay until she woke up. If he did, he wouldn’t break that promise, but he suspected she’d wake up embarrassed, and it seemed kinder to spare her that. “Just go to sleep, okay? I’ve got you.”

She nodded a little, finally, finally falling asleep after a long while of Jason trying to murmur comforting things to the best of his ability while still rubbing her back. Once he was sure she was out, he snuck off and located her phone out in the living room and dialed Dick’s number. Dick answered on the third ring. 

“H’lo? Babs?” Dick’s tired slur indicated Jason’s call had awakened him.

“It’s Jason, actually.”

“It’s...what?”

“Jesus. Wake up.”

“Why’re you calling from her phone? Is she okay?” Dick suddenly sounded much more alert. 

“She’s fine. I’m using her phone because she’s crashed in her room. Look...can you get down here?”

“Uh...yeah, why?”

“She’s...just...come on, I’ll explain when you get here. Keep the phone going, I’m trying to make it look like a drunk dial.”

“Wait, drunk dial?”

“Yeah, she’s hammered.”

“She’s what?!”

“Just get your ass down here.”

Jason could hear Dick shuffling around, probably getting dressed and grabbing his stuff. Once he heard the distinctive sound of the door closing, he hung up without another word. While he waited, he leaned out Barbara’s fire escape and smoked a cigarette, breathing in the night air. It was a lot quieter here than at his own crash pad, and he briefly considered the notion that he might get a better night’s sleep right there on the fire escape than he usually did at home. 

Dick arrived faster than Jason had expected, looking very worried. That part had been expected. Jason let him in, indicating that they needed to be quiet, and they both looked in on Barbara before going back to the living room to talk. 

“What the hell happened?” Dick asked as soon as they were in the clear. 

“I ran into her at Branson’s. She was putting away a bottle of shitty wine.”

“Babs almost never drinks.”

“Hence why the entire bottle was a really bad idea.”

“You just let her?”

“She’s a big girl, Dick. I’m not her boss.”

“Still, you’re her...you let her just drink that much right in front of you?”

“Clearly, she had her reasons. I made sure she didn’t drink even more and I got her home safe,” said Jason, glaring at him. When Dick didn’t say anything, Jason imitated his voice. “Thank you, Jason, it’s great that you were there and looking out for her.”

Dick sighed. “Okay. Fine. I get it. Sorry.”

“Are you?”

“No, seriously...I am.” Dick had the decency to be sincerely abashed. “She’s really okay?”

“She’ll probably have one mother of a hangover in the morning, but nothing a greasy burger can’t fix. I figured you could be there for that part. She’ll want someone nice. So...you know. Be nice.”

Jason grabbed his jacket and started to make his way out when Dick stopped him at the door. 

“Jason...really. Thank you.”

Jason just nodded and slipped out before he could think twice. It would be better that way. Maybe Barbara would remember them talking, maybe not. Maybe she could wake up sober and have a heart-to-heart with Dick, and Dick would work his gratingly optimistic magic on her and make it all better. Whatever happened, it would be better if Jason weren’t there for the aftermath, he was certain of it. 

***

The next day, Jason rolled over in his bed at about one o’clock and checked his phone. The sun streaming through the blinds made it hard to see at first, but once his eyes focused, he saw a long series of texts from Barbara. 

_Hey,_ they read. _Sorry I was a drunk idiot last night, and thanks for getting me home safely. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I was in a really bad place, as you know, so the fact that you showed up and took care of me means a lot. I hope you got some rest after you left. I’m doing all right except for a serious headache, but after what I consumed I’m guessing I should count myself lucky. Anyway, I hope to hear from you today...maybe you can help me fill in some blanks and clear up some details I’m a little fuzzy on. One incident in particular (which I’m assuming actually happened and wasn’t just a weird dream), which we definitely should talk about. I want to apologize properly for it. It was totally inappropriate and put you in a really awkward place, which I had no right to do, no matter how much I drank. So anyway, please call or text me so we can talk it out, because I feel terrible. OK, I’m going to try and get a little more sleep. Dick has been plying me with sports drinks and greasy diner food all morning and I feel like I’m about to become comatose. Take care and we’ll talk soon. -B_

Jason read her messages twice, then turned off his phone and went back to sleep. He wouldn’t respond, and he knew deep down she wouldn’t really expect him to.


End file.
